


Siren

by ambpersand



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Friends With Benefits
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2015-04-21
Packaged: 2018-02-10 20:05:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2038308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambpersand/pseuds/ambpersand
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finnick Odair moves back to his childhood home after inheriting the now-defunct family business, and finds himself befriending the eccentric artist who owns the shop down the street. The last thing he wants while trying to get a new business off the ground is a relationship, but sometimes life gets a little bit more complicated than expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Babydoll Ria (Babydoll_Ria)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Babydoll_Ria/gifts).



At dawn, the wharf smelled like sour fish, salt water, and stale cigarettes. It was a flurry of activity, with men rushing around each other to unload cargo and get paid as quickly as possible.

To the average bystander, it was chaos. But to Annie Cresta, it was art.

Each crew had their own choreography, moving around their boats seamlessly with one another. Gruff captains would shout orders and deckhands would skirt around the port, ensuring the cargo was unloaded to specification. Money would be exchanged, laughter and smiles would ensue, and the men, with their dirty hands and tired eyes, would clap each other on the back as they celebrated another successful fishing run.

Once a week, Annie came to watch. There was a small café just up the small hill that looked down onto the docks with giant windows, and it gave her the best view. Her sketchbook sat untouched on the laminate tabletop and her coffee grew cold as she sat, but she was waiting for the right moment.

Her eyes scanned the crowd of men, bustling around each other like bees in a hive. Some weeks she left the café without finding the perfect scene she was looking for, but this week, she was determined.

Her patience paid off when she spotted two men, standing in front of a small, weather-worn boat. Their smiles reached all the way up to the corners of their eyes as they proudly looked down at their haul. One of the men was younger, but bore a striking resemblance to the older man that was patting his shoulder, leaving no doubt in her mind that they were father and son.

Grabbing her sketchbook and pencil, she began roughly outlining their figures. She filled in the backdrop, with the boat tied to the dock and the rough morning waves splashing against its sides. The details would come later, as they were imprinted in her mind. She could see the sandy brown hair of the son, tousled from the wind, and the half-chewed cigar that hung from the father’s lips as he congratulated his son on their fishing success that week. Through their happiness, the son looked worn and tired, his face ashen in comparison to the red paint on the hull of their boat.

She only needed to look back up a few times, as the men soon separated to finish their duties that morning. Once she was satisfied with her progress, she closed her sketchbook and looked up to see the waitress smiling at her.

“You’ve been sitting there for almost three hours,” she said, lifting the pot of coffee in her hand, “Do you want a refill?”

Annie turned, shocked to see that the sun was fully in the sky. When she’d arrived, it had barely been casting a pinkish glow down on the docks. “I guess I lost track of the time,” her voice was quiet, “Thanks though. I’ll just be going.”

She stood and stretched her limbs slowly. She was stiff and her joints were aching, but she ignored it as she grabbed her backpack and began loading up her sketchbook and pencils. After tossing it over her shoulder, she pulled a few crumpled bills from her pocket.

The waitress smiled and nodded as Annie set her money down on the table, “See you next week.”

Outside, Annie unlocked the chain that secured her bike to the rack, and began peddling back to her apartment.

 

Finnick Odair stood outside the bare storefront, taking in its potential. The paint from the old sign was peeling, its letters faded and worn from almost three decades of rain and sun. He could still make out the faint outline of the letters, the ones his grandfather painted himself, spelling out “Odair Dive Shop” for every tourist and passerby to see.

It was the shop that was supposed to become the family legacy. _Maybe it could still be,_ he thought to himself.

“Is there anything else I can do for you today, sir?” He looked over, noting the man that had been sent by the moving company was now standing beside him.

Confused, Finnick looked aroud. Surely his team of movers wasn’t done unloading the truck; it had only been an hour or two since they arrived. “You’re done already?”

The man nodded, smiling politely. “We try to be timely, Mr. Odair. Everything has been unloaded into the stockroom in the back as you directed. Here is your invoice; have a nice day.”

He handed him a slip of paper before smiling again and walking back towards the box truck. Two other men in matching green shirts were waiting for him, with the logo for “Bayside Moving Services” emblazoned across the back. Finnick waved them off, then folded the invoice up and slipped it into his pocket, making a mental note to add it to the growing pile once his desk was fully unpacked.

Glancing at his watch, he noticed that it was getting close to noon.  Torn between getting lunch and unpacking all of his things, Finnick sighed. _Might as well get some food first._

Despite the fact that it was the same town he grew up in, Finnick couldn’t decide what to do or where to go for lunch. It had been years since he had been home, and it was hard to tell what was available. New shops lined the streets, a wide array of tourist traps, art galleries, specialty shops, and boutiques. Several coffee shops and cafés dotted the boulevard, all leading down to the beach nearby.

Setting his sights on the closest café, he quickly crossed the street. _At least it doesn’t smell like fish today,_ he thought, grateful that the wind wasn’t blowing the smell up to the shops from the wharf.

The _Cove Diner_ had been operating since as long as Finnick could remember. The other stores around it came and went like the seasons, but the café stayed the same. He could remember having lunches at the counter when he was little, watching his grandfather banter back and forth with the fry cook.

He could still remember how the vinyl stools would stick to the backs of his legs when he sat down, and how he never wanted to go back home to his father when they were done.

Finnick shook the thoughts from his head. _No sense in dredging up the past._

The Cove, as he remembered it being called by the locals, had two new shops flanking its sides. Or at least, newer since he had last been home- which admittedly, had been a long time.

An eccentric looking art gallery and boutique sat on the right, its windows filled with paintings and ocean themed trinkets. Its door was propped open, and the strong scent of citrus wafted out to the street. On the other side was an ice cream shop and bakery, its widows filled with pastries, cupcakes, and other sugary sweets. Smirking to himself, he had a feeling he would be making more than a few trips there during the slow afternoons.

As he reached to open the diner’s door it flew open, giving him just enough time to jump back to avoid being hit in the face. Whoever had come through the door had been just surprised as he was, and they dropped a brown paper bag with a surprised squeak. Sandwiches wrapped in white paper and bags of chips came tumbling out, scattering across the sidewalk as the bag ripped from the impact.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Finnick looked up to see a woman, around his age, with bright green eyes and long, wavy brown hair. Her blue dress was fluttering in the breeze, and she was moving so quickly he could barely keep his eyes on her as she tried to gather up her food from the ground. “I really should watch where I go and stop running around,” she was muttering to herself.

“It’s okay, I was a bit distracted with the treats over there in the window,” Finnick nodded his head towards the bakery, leaning down to help her gather her things. “Guess I wasn’t exactly watching either.”

She smelled like citrus, the same citrus that he noticed drifting out from the store next door.

She laughed quietly, thanking him and standing up. “I don’t really have any reason to rush, I’m just right over there,” nodding to the gallery and boutique, his thoughts were confirmed.

“Either way, it’s nothing to worry about. I should probably introduce myself, my name’s Finnick Odair, I own the dive shop just down the street,” she shifted her bag, trying to keep its contents from spilling out again, and shook his outstretched hand.

“Annie Cresta. I thought that store wasn’t owned by anyone?” Her brow furrowed in confusion. “It’s been empty for so long.”

Finnick nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. This wasn’t anything he wanted to get into with a stranger. “Old family business. I just inherited it and moved back, so I’m reopening it now that tourism is up again around here.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” she looked around uncomfortable with the small talk. “Well if you ever need anything or have any questions, let me know. I’ve had my shop open for a few years now, and my apartment is just upstairs so I’m always around.”

Before he could answer she smiled politely and walked off, quickly ducking through the door of her gallery. 


	2. Part II

Climbing down from the ladder, Finnick straightened the last of the plaques and frames that hung on the wall of the shop behind the register. His skin was sticky from the summer humidity, the thin white t-shirt he wore kept clinging to his stomach and shoulders uncomfortably. Even with the building’s decades-old air conditioner running on high, the shop still felt uncomfortable. _I’m going to need to replace that old piece of shit soon,_ Finnick thought to himself as he pulled the damp v-neck over his head. Tossing it on the floor underneath the counter, he took a moment to survey his handiwork and everything that was being commemorated.

_“Locals Open New Dive Shop on Boulevard”_

_“Odair’s Offers Diving & Snorkel Lessons to Locals, Tourists Alike”_

_“Davis Odair Honored at Annual Poseidon Parade”_

Finnick stepped back from the wall with a sense of satisfaction; it was the last thing he’d needed to finish. The newspaper articles behind the glass of the frames were faded and worn, the paper yellowed from age. His grandfather’s smiling face was discernable in each one, but his favorite was the last. The black and white photo was grainy and washed-out, but it showcased the day that his grandfather had been honored for his contributions to the town at their local parade. He’d taken Finnick with him, and he’d gotten to ride in the back of the fanciest, shiniest red convertible he’d ever seen that afternoon. Finnick had only been eight years old that summer, and in the photograph he was frozen in a moment of laughter as his grandfather helped him toss candy to the people lining the street. He’d been so giddy with excitement that Davis couldn’t hide his own smile as he looked down at Finnick beside him.

It was one of his favorite memories.

Finnick smiled to himself and tore his eyes away from the photo, looking around the shop at everything he had built. He’d grown up hearing the words _“One day this will all be yours, Finn,”_ from his grandparents when they had run the business, and Finnick felt a swell of pride in his chest at the thought that he was finally carrying on his family legacy.

His thoughts were interrupted by the soft _ding_ of the bell at the front door, and Finnick turned to see his longtime friend walk into the store, his clothes covered in paint stains and smudges.

“Oh come on, Mellark, I know you’re good, but not _that_ good. You can’t be done already,” Finnick chuckled, knowing that repainting the old store sign that stretched across the display windows was no easy task, especially when he was being asked to replicate the original design.

Peeta laughed, “You’re lucky that Katniss is fine with being down at the pier all day, because this is going to take a lot longer than I thought. I’ve been trying to stencil the design out over what’s still there, but I think I need to sand it down and start from scratch,” he pushed his blond hair out of his face, shooting Finnick an apologetic look. “All that old paint is peeling and bubbled too much to salvage and paint on top of. I’m really sorry man, but it’s probably going to take all weekend.”

Finnick took a deep breath and rubbed his hand across the back of his neck, mentally running through his options. “All right, we can work with that. There’s still a week until we officially open, so time isn’t a problem. Just do what you need to and let me know how much I owe you, yeah?”

Peeta nodded, clearly relieved. “I keep telling you you’re not paying me for this, Finn. Now, if you want to take Katniss and I out to dinner this weekend, I won’t argue…” he flashed him a bright smile before ducking back out to the front sidewalk before Finnick could put up a fight.

He and Peeta had known each other since their freshman year of college, when they had been selected as roommates in the scholarship dorm at Capitol University. While Finnick was there on a swimming scholarship, and Peeta for wrestling, they had become quick friends.

Chuckling to himself, he knew it was going to be a fight to get Peeta to take any form of payment for such a big favor. He turned back around and went to the front counter, taking a seat and busying himself with the stack of invoices that sat near the register. Only a moment later, the front doorbell rang again as it opened.

Figuring it was Peeta, Finnick didn’t bother looking up from his calculator as he punched the numbers from the invoice in. “I know I’m not paying you or anything, but you sure are taking a lot of breaks,” he joked, finishing up the equation and writing down the total on a scratch piece of paper.

His laughter died in his throat when he looked up and realized that it wasn’t Peeta standing inside the doorway, but the store owner from across the street that he had _literally_ run into the week before.

Her left eyebrow was raised and a small smile played at her lips. “Maybe I should have knocked first?”

His brain seemed to be short-circuiting and inhibiting his ability to answer, his thoughts swimming between the bills that sat in front of him and the amount of paint he was going to need to buy for Peeta to finish the sign. Seeing her, standing in his store, she looked entirely different than the whirlwind of energy he had met the week before. Her long hair was tied up into a messy bun atop her head, with wayward curls falling around her face, framing it softly. Clad in a simple pair of denim shorts and a patterned, flowing tank top, her pale skin seemed to glow underneath the store’s florescent lights.

A small flutter formed in his stomach, expanding up into his chest before he realized what was happening.

He forced a laugh and hopped off the stool, trying to ignore the way his ears suddenly felt warm. “I’m so sorry, I thought you were my friend outside,” he walked over to her, his smile turning genuine. “I don’t often verbally harass my neighbors, just for the record.”

She laughed and crossed her arms over her chest, her fingers immediately going to fidget with the silver starfish charm she wore around her neck. His eyes were drawn to the movement, but he quickly realized he was staring and looked to her eyes when he asked, “It’s Annie, right?”

“Right,” her smile was bright. “I just wanted to let you know that part of the whole ‘downtown revitalization’ plan the city started a few years ago is to do fireworks on the last Friday night of the month. Everybody in town usually comes out for it, and I figured I should give you a heads up in case you didn’t know. It would be a good time to pass out some business cards and be seen around town before you officially open shop.”

Her words were emphasized as she dragged her gaze lower, taking in his tan skin and muscular frame. Her eyes lingered on the waistband of his kahki shorts, slung low on his hips since he hadn’t bothered grabbing a belt that morning. She took her time bringing her eyes back up to his as she looked him over unabashed, smiling brazenly when she was finished looking him over.

Finnick cocked an eyebrow and grinned, giving her the same look he’d used countless times on girls in college, “Like what you see?”

The corners of her lips turned up as she fought off a laugh, rolling her eyes. “Dress like that tonight and you’ll have every woman in town lined up at your door next week.”

He hadn’t realized that it was already the last Friday of the month, but she was right. _Guess my mind’s been elsewhere…_

“Will you be there?” he asked, trying to ignore the strange feeling of hope that bloomed in his chest at the thought.

 “I might be around for a little while,” Annie shrugged, drawing his eyes to her delicate collarbone. Before he could think of a witty response, she turned back towards the front door. “See you around, Finnick.”

With a wink she breezed outside, leaving the soft _ding_ of the front door and the smell of citrus and sugar in her wake.

Finnick inhaled deeply, savoring the scent. _She smells like lemon meringue pie…_

Realizing he had forgotten his manners completely, he burst into action. He threw open the door and ran out on to the street, but she was already nearing the entrance of her own store.

“Annie!” he called. She halted her steps, turning to face him. “Thanks for the heads up!” his shout echoed across the street, and he smiled brightly at her.

“It’s what neighbors do,” she called back simply before walking inside.

“Well,” Peeta coughed, drawing Finnick’s attention up to where he was perched on a ladder, a sanding block in one hand and a rag the other. “Looks like Katniss has won the bet.”

Finnick furrowed his eyebrows and shielded the afternoon sun from his face as he looked up, “Do I even want to know?”

Peeta shrugged. “She bet me that you’d have some girl interested in you before the store even opened.”

Finnick wasn’t sure if he should be offended or not. He _did_ have a healthy list of ex-lovers while he was in college, but he hadn’t gone around breaking hearts. “How much was the bet?”

“Twenty bucks.”

He laughed, pushing his hands into the pockets of his shorts. “I’m flattered.”

As he walked back inside, Finnick ignored the nagging thought that _he_ might be the one with an interest. Usually he could make girls swoon with a well-timed wink, or some flirty banter. She’d barely been effected by his usually tricks.

 

Finnick stood in front of the mirror that was propped up against the wall, surveying his reflection. His hair was still tousled and damp from his recent shower, drying rapidly into his trademark bronze waves that fell onto his forehead. The white polo he wore was brand new, with the logo of the Dive Shop embroidered in blue thread on the breast pocket. In it, he placed a few business cards to hand out that night. He checked the pockets of his shorts, making sure he had his wallet and cell phone, before he slipped on the well-worn pair of leather sandals sitting by the door.

He felt ridiculous and slightly anxious- something he hadn’t felt since his first day of college- but it had taken him almost twenty minutes just to pick out the shirt he was going to wear, stressing himself out under the self-imposed pressure to look good for the locals.

He pointedly ignored the thought of one local in particular.

_This is pointless,_ he thought to himself as he finished locking the door to his loft. _You’ve talked to her twice. That’s it. You’ve got an apartment to finish moving into, a business to open, and a life to get settled before even thinking about getting involved with someone- let alone another local business owner._

He had to be careful and not ruin what his grandparents had left him. The store and the outdated loft apartment above it were the only things Finnick truly owned.

He couldn’t figure out what his draw to Annie was, since his type had always been leggy blondes with expensive taste, not petite artists who strolled about the town, talking to themselves.

More than once over the past week, when Finnick had been unboxing products or cleaning the cobwebs from the store, he’d glanced outside to see Annie visiting other stores or organizing the table of goods she kept outside her own. Each time, he could see her lips moving softly, but it was impossible to make out what she was saying.

He shook his head, dislodging the thoughts. A cool breeze filtered through the narrow alleyway as he rounded the building. The door to the upstairs loft was on the backside of the brownstone that housed the store, shielding it from prying eyes and passing cars on the street. Sunset was rapidly approaching, the clear summer sky melting from blue to purple to pink over the roofs of downtown as the sun descended over them.

Stepping out on to the street, Finnick was surprised at the flurry of activity. Crowds of people wandered from store to store, stopping to gaze into shop windows or to talk with street vendors. Food trucks parked sporadically down the block, lines of people curling down the sidewalk as they waited to order their food.

Children with their faces painted walked hand in hand with their parents, some carrying balloon animals or pinwheels, happy to gaze up at the sights around them. He could hear a band playing in the distance, the bass and thumping of the drums muffled as the sound echoed between the buildings. From the sound, Finnick guessed they were playing on the pier, which was down the street and around the block from where he stood.

He was so focused on his surprise at the amount of people around that he didn’t hear the soft footfalls of someone approaching. “Pretty amazing, isn’t it?”

Startled, Finnick took a step back, rocking on his heels until he realized that it was Annie standing by his side. She wasn’t looking at him, but instead out at the crowds, smiling softly as the people wandered down the block.

“It is,” he hesitantly agreed. It really was, considering when he had left 8 years prior the town had been all but dead. “It wasn’t even like this when I was a kid. Only on parade days, and even then there wasn’t this much going on.”

Annie nodded, still looking out at the street. She stood an arm’s length away, and Finnick almost had to lean in to hear her soft voice over the noise. “This is the best summer we’ve had. There was an article in some fancy magazine about ‘hidden vacation destinations’ last year and it’s been booming since.”

He furrowed his brows. “How long have you been around the bay area?” He didn’t recognize her from growing up in town, which meant she’d had to have come along after he left for college. He was curious, she seemed so comfortable with the locals and tourists alike.

“Five years. I grew up in another town down the coast, though.”

“And how long have you had your shop?” he knew he was prying, but his curiosity won out.

“A month or two less,” She didn’t elaborate.

“That must’ve been difficult; I know things weren’t great around here back then,” he responded, wondering how she made it work.

She shrugged. “It only took a year or two for things to start turning around. Everyone around town really helped me out, too.”

“Can I ask what brought you here?”

“No,” she smiled at him, finally looking in his direction. “But I will introduce you to some people, if you’re interested.”

Finnick laughed, unsurprised at the ease in which she denied him. “My apologies for overstepping my bounds,” he nodded his head at her, sincere. “And I will gladly accept your offer. Please, lead the way.”

He followed her closely through the crowds, not bothering to mention that he still knew many of the old shop owners from when he was a teenager. Aside from the boost in tourism, not much about the town had changed in the 8 years since he’d left.

Annie walked easily through the mass of people, her movements as fluid as a dancer. As they walked, she pointed out updates that had been made to the buildings since she’d arrived in town, telling stories about other businesses that had come and gone. She always stayed a half a step ahead of him, glancing back over her shoulder to smile at him during the lulls in conversation. He kept his eyes trained on her, listening and laughing at the way her face scrunched up when she described the failed business that sold only organic beef jerky, and the creepy bait shop owner who only hired attractive high school girls.

Before they could get to the pier, Finnick was knocked sideways by a skinny blonde.

Instinctively he reached out, catching her before she could fall. “Are you okay?”

She stumbled, but grasped his forearm in her small hands. She looked up at him and immediately smiled, her blue eyes sparkling as she batted her eyelashes. The half empty cup of beer she held in her other hand had sloshed down the front of his shirt.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I can’t believe I did that!” she apologized profusely, shaking droplets of the spilled beer off her own hand. Biting her lip, she touched his now soaked shirt, her hand lingering on his abs. “I’m so clumsy, I really should watch where I’m walking.”

Realization dawned on him, and Finnick hid his laugh with a smile. “That might be a good idea,” he took a careful step back, satisfied when her hand dropped back to her side. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Annie watching them closely. “You could hurt yourself if you aren’t careful.”

He gave her another smile and took a step back, hoping to sidestep around her and continue on his way with Annie.

“Wait,” she stepped in front of him, blocking his path. She pouted her lips, attempting to look innocent. “Surely I can make it up to you. Let me buy you a drink?”

Her sugar sweet voice grated against his ears like nails on a chalkboard. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t drink. Have a good evening.”

Before she could block him again, he gave her a polite smile and quickly strode to where Annie stood. “Ready? We should loop back around so I can go grab a new shirt.”

With laughter sparkling in her eyes, she nodded, falling into step beside him. Once they were out of earshot, she spoke. “So, was that true or just an excuse?”

He laughed, his chest rumbling deeply with the sound. “Just an excuse. Although if you saw through me that easily, I’m glad we got away quickly.”

Annie smiled, shrugging. “It was easier to see from my vantage point,” Bumping her shoulder against his arm, she looked at him quizzically. “I hope you didn’t turn her down just for my sake.”

He looked down at her, able to see that her green eyes actually faded to blue around the iris. After a moment, he was able to answer. “It would have been rude for me to ditch you. I’d like to think my grandfather instilled better manners in me than that,” he winked, continuing on. “But that aside, I just wasn’t interested.”

“What, not your type?” she inquired, and he stifled a smile at her attempt to sound casual.

He scratched the stubble on the underside of his chin. “Well, she used to be,” he answered truthfully, but let his eyes linger on the freckles that dotted her bare shoulder. “I’ve just got too much going on right now to be interested in starting a relationship and getting tied down.”

Annie laughed lightly, coming to a halt and pinning him with a sardonic look. “She asked you for a drink, not a marriage proposal. Some of us aren’t looking for anything more than a little bit of fun too, you know. Men aren’t the only ones interested in some no-strings-attached sex.”

Cocking his head, Finnick took a step closer to her with practiced ease and lowered his voice. “Is that what you’re looking for, Annie?”

“I suppose that all depends on the guy,” he was surprised when she didn’t shy away, instead holding his gaze and taking a small step towards him until they were only inches apart.

His curiosity won out, and he had to continue. “What if it were me?” Finnick couldn’t deny that he was attracted to her, more so than he had been with any other girl in a long time.

_But to lose a friend in the community that has current connections is a big risk if things go bad_ … Knowing she was a potential ally for his fledgling store was enough to make him pause.

His chest tight, he waited for her answer. She scrutinized him, taking her time as she looked him over. Her eyes glided over the planes of his face, down to his wide shoulders and on, smirking at the yellow beer stain on the white cotton of his shirt.

“Well,” she started, “I like you, Finnick,” she dropped her gaze back down to his waistband and bit her lip. The gesture was suggestive enough that Finnick could feel himself start to harden. “But I also like having another business owner in town that isn’t a retiree or some organic, grass-fed yuppie. I wouldn’t want to deal with the aftermath if things went bad.”

Relief rushed through his body at her words. _She gets it._ Before he could breathe a sigh of relief, she continued. “But, hypothetically speaking, if I was interested in sleeping with you, I would have some rules.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Rules?”

“Yes,” she nodded, eyes twinkling as she smiled and gave his wet shirt a pointed look. “How about we head back so you can change your shirt though, because you smell like cheap beer.”

“Only if you fill me in on the way,” he waited for her to nod and begin walking before falling into step beside her.

“Well, we’ve covered the first one. When it ends- and I’m saying _when,_ not _if,_ because we’re both adults here- we have to be at least civil towards each other. I don’t want any drama interfering with my life or business afterward.”

He nodded, waiting for her to continue. When she saw his agreement, she began again. “Second, I want a friendship, not a relationship. I don’t want to call them the next day, or spend the evening waiting for a text message. I’m not interested in dealing with anyone’s feelings.”

Finnick couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled in his chest. “Ahh, so you’re a hit-it-and-quit-it kind of girl?”

“What?” she laughed, pushing his shoulder lightly. “No, I’m just saying that feelings are too complicated and messy. I want to be able to hang out with someone, grab some lunch or dinner and have a good time. Then, I want to be able to go home without worrying about what’s next. Think of it as really good friends that sleep together. Nothing more.”

Her rules were appealing. As they neared his building, he could feel the tension begin to rise. “Anything else?”

“Yes,” her voice was firm, and she lifted her chin. “That if either party finds a romantic interest, the agreement ends immediately. I won’t be ‘the other girl’ while the guy-“ her eyes shot to him with a knowing look, “decides if he’s interested in someone else and dates around. I wouldn’t be willing to sleep with someone on the side while I’m dating someone else, and I would expect it in return.”

“So, you’re talking monogamous friends-with-benefits, then?” Finnick nodded, scratching the stubble on the underside of his chin. _She’s really thought this through…_

“Pretty much. Which brings me to my last rule- I need to know that we aren’t risking any STDs and we’d both go get tested just to make sure.”

“Wow,” Finnick was surprised. “That’s thorough. For the record, I was tested last month and I can assure you I’m clean,” he added with a wink. She couldn’t have designed a more favorable situation. _A friend and business ally in town, someone to have fun with that you’re already attracted to, and no risk of it interfering with being able to run the store? She’s fucking perfect._ “And if, hypothetically speaking again, I was more than okay with these rules? What then?” he prompted. His feet slowed as they approached the store, content with letting her call the shots. He could feel his whole body thrumming with anticipation, and as much as he wanted to take charge, shove her against the brick wall and have his way with her, Finnick had the distinct impression he might scare her off.

“I guess we go upstairs,” she answered, smiling as she nodded at the alleyway that led around the back of the building. “Unless you want me to wait down here while you go change.”

“Absolutely not,” Finnick ushered her forward, “Although you’ll have to forgive me for not having time to decorate yet.” His chest felt tight as excitement washed over him, the ease of their banter making him want her even more.

She laughed but followed him closely, waiting silently as he unlocked the door and headed up the narrow staircase to the apartment above. When they reached the apartment, he held the door open for her. She strode inside, looking around at all the half unpacked boxes. “I always wondered what it looked like up here, and if it was the same as the apartment above my store.”

“And?” Finnick prompted, letting her explore the open space as he walked over to one of the boxes that sat near the couch.

“It’s pretty similar, but I think that’s because both buildings were built around the same time,” she spoke as he dug around, searching for a new shirt. Finding a suitable replacement, he stood up straight and pulled the soaked polo off and dropped it on the floor beside the box. Before he could pull the clean shirt over his head, he realized she had walked over to him.

“Finnick,” she addressed him, her voice barely above a whisper. He turned around to find her face inches from him, and before he could blink, she was standing on the tips of her toes, her lips pressed firmly against his. He inhaled deeply, returning the kiss and bringing his hand to the nape of her neck. Grabbing her hips, he led them backwards until his calves touched the cushions of the couch. Sitting down, he pulled her with him and guided her legs around his waist until she was straddling his lap.

A moan escaped Finnick’s throat at the contact, her small, lithe body fitting against his easily. He pulled the elastic from her hair as he continued to kiss her, moving his lips aggressively against hers as her hair fell down around her shoulders. Dragging his hands down the sides of her body to her hips, he grasped her ass firmly as she undulated on top of him.

The friction was enough to make Finnick growl, desperate for more. Annie began kissing a path to his ear, grazing it with her teeth lightly before suckling the skin at his neck. Her hands clutched at his bare chest, running her fingers down the ridges in his abs and back up again. “I think I have condoms in the box beside the bed,” his voice was hoarse, his senses overwhelmed.

She moved her lips back to his and kissed him deeply before pulling away. “Do you want to move this to the bed?” she was breathing heavily, and her chest was flushed pink.

Finnick thought for a moment. “No, stay here,” he lifted her up and set her beside him on the couch, discreetly adjusting his erection as he walked over to the box filled with items that belonged in his nightstand. After a moment of searching he pulled the foiled package out, relief rushing through him that he still had one left.

Once he reached the couch he stood above her, looking down for a long moment and taking in the sight of her swollen lips and mussed hair. “Stand up,” his voice was rough like gravel, his tone full of command. She’d had her turn to lead, and now he was taking control.

He could see her pulse beating wildly beneath her jaw, but she nodded eagerly and stood. He positioned her in front of him as he sat down in her place, chuckling lightly at the bewildered expression she wore. “Undress for me,” he leaned back, running his palm down the stiff length of his cock.

After a moment of hesitation, she began. First, her top, sliding the thin, delicate straps down her arms and over her head. Her eyes glittered with excitement as his roamed over her body, taking in the cream colored lace of her bra and the swell of her breasts. He could see her fingers trembling as she slowly unbuttoned her shorts, pulling them down her hips with a sensual sway before leaving them in a pool by her feet.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, leaning forward and kissing her stomach, letting his lips trail a path lower until he reached the top of her lace panties. Looking back up at her, he reached up and around her body, unhooking the clasp of her bra and tossing it in the pile with the rest of her clothes. He gently circled her nipples, tracing them with a light touch until they were flushed red and tightly peaked. By now her whole body was trembling, and he couldn’t keep the smile from breaking through. He could see the way she clenched her thighs together, shifting her weight from foot to foot in an effort to create the tiniest bit of friction.

Knowing she needed some relief, he ran his fingers lightly down her sides, leaving goose bumps in their wake. Hooking them into the waistband of her panties, he pulled them down roughly. Once rid of them completely, he gave her another command.

“Set your thigh on my shoulder,” when she gave him a quizzical look, he grinned. “You can hold on to me for support. You’re going to need it.”

She followed his direction, and once she was open to him he kissed her inner thigh, inhaling her sweet scent. He began kissing his way to her core, licking and sucking a path to her sex. She had begun to make incoherent noises, breathy moans and soft whimpers that left his shaft aching. Deciding not to tease her any longer, he separated her lips with his fingers and placed a long, firm lick across her clit.

“Oh fuck,” she cried out, and he felt her legs weaken as she rested more of her weight on him. He held her firmly in place as he continued, swirling his tongue around the hardened nub with broad strokes that left her undulating against his face. She was so wet, her arousal all over his nose, mouth, and chin- but he didn’t care. _She tastes so fucking sweet._

With the two fingers of his other hand he dipped them inside her opening, reveling in the tightness of her sheath. He changed his pace, using his tongue to create tighter circles that swept across her clit rapidly. Her legs were shaking, and her voice was already growing hoarse. Seeing her like this, so undone, was almost more than he could take.

“Oh, god, Finnick, please! I’m so close…” her hands were buried in his hair, pulling tightly and scratching his scalp as he worked her into a frenzy. At her words he sped up, timing the thrusts of his fingers and the sweep of his tongue until he felt her clench around him.

She yelled out, her voice cracking as the orgasm washed over her. He could taste it on his tongue, and didn’t stop until he felt her hands pushing at his head.

“Holy shit, Finnick,” she was breathless, her chest flushed and heaving as she struggled to regain her footing. He could tell her legs were weak as she swayed, so he didn’t bother wasting any time.

Standing up, he directed her forward to the couch again. “I’ve got to have you now, Annie. Get on your hands and knees for me.”

As she did, he removed his shorts and boxers, tossing them to the side before ripping open the condom and pulling it down his erection. His cock was so hard, he could feel it pulsing with want and desire.

“I’m not going to last long,” he warned her, positioning himself at her entrance. It had taken every ounce of willpower he had to resist tossing her down and fucking her first, but he knew that he may not last long enough to get her off in time.

“Then we’ll just have to go again later,” she smiled back at him over her shoulder, her satisfaction unmistakable. “Please Finnick, just fuck me.”

His laugh turned into a groan as he slid into her, the feeling of her around his cock was like heaven, her pussy hot and tight. She let out a moan as his hips met her ass, and he gave her a moment to adjust.

“Fuck, Annie,” he caressed her hips, her breasts, her shoulders- his hands roaming everywhere as he began to thrust. Shallow at first, but then the strokes grew longer, setting a slow pace. She dropped her head as he worked his way into a rhythm, pushing his cock into her as deep as she could take. Her hands clenched the sofa as he worked himself over her, moaning and gasping every time he buried himself completely.

Her pussy clenched his cock like a vice, squeezing him every time he withdrew. Reaching around her body, his fingers sought her clit and he smiled to himself when he found it. She was soaking wet, hot and slippery as his finger massaged the sensitive bundle of nerves. She cried out again, shifting her hips so he could reach deeper and began rocking back to meet his thrusts. The change in angle massaged the head of his cock in the perfect spot, and he felt the familiar pressure begin to build in his groin.

Increasing his pace he slammed his hips into her, his fingers still circling her clit in time with his thrusts. After only a moment her legs began to tremble and she grew even wetter around his cock, her pussy beginning to spasm around him.

“Finnick!” she cried out as her second orgasm slammed through her body, eyes clenched tight and arms shaking as she struggled to hold herself upright.

The sensations were too much, and Finnick couldn’t hold back any longer. The tightness in his balls grew until it was too much to handle, pushing him over the edge with pleasure. His orgasm was white hot, slamming through his body. Every nerve was firing at once as he rode it out, emptying himself into her and calling out her name in a hoarse moan.

His hips slowed as he struggled to catch his breath, and he took in the sight of her underneath him. Her skin was flushed, glowing with pleasure and a sheen of sweat. His fingers had left red marks on her hips, shoulders, and down her back as he’d tried to touch all of her while they fucked. He stepped back on unsteady legs, grinning widely at the scene. She collapsed on the couch, turning her body to face him, her eyes half closed with satisfaction.

He let his body fall next to hers, enjoying the warm feel of her skin against his own. He was breathless, and she spoke before he could find any words.

“I don’t know about you, but I could really go for some Chinese take-out.”


End file.
